The Downed Stalkling
by Crystallion12
Summary: In the Darklands, it's kill or be killed; but as he looked at the fallen Stalkling, Jim couldn't bring his sword down, because... Because it was just as afraid as Jim was. The Trollhunter looked at the Stalkling whom was at his mercy, and saw himself. In the light of judgement, he questions life and death themselves. [Rated T, mostly for gore and dark themes. One-Shot.]


**The Downed Stalkling**

 **Author's Note/AN:**

Greetings, fellow Trollhunters!

So, for anyone who read my first little Trollhunters One-Shot, _The Darkest Light_ , you'll find direct references in this to it. I'd very much say this is the second instalment of a small series, if you will- all set in the Darklands. This one is indeed based strongly off How to train your Dragon's scene, 'The Downed Dragon'. It's not very good, I'm afraid, but I just got the idea and couldn't ignore it. I wrote like, five sixths of this in the car and the shop… XD I was bored. Does anyone want to see another one of these, or a Trollhunters fic in general? Saying I'll probably write one or two more instalments in this little series, regardless. I have something planned. ;)

Ah- another note to keep in mind. **There are** _ **SPOILERS**_ **ahead! You have been warned.**

 **WARNING (for Content):** Rated T for some gore and violence at the beginning- as with before, lots of nasty Darklands. I wasn't too sure where to put this, but I honestly think that the blood and injury is slightly worse here. Just to be safe. :)

 **DISCLAIMER:** Regrettably… I do not own _Trollhunters_. They and their characters belong solely to DreamWorks Animation and Guillermo Del Toro.

Enjoy, dear readers- may the Trollhunters UNITE! :D

 **-Crystallion12**

 **-XxX-x-XxX-**

 _The salty, coppery smell of thick blood that belonged to both troll and human._

 _The thuds of a tail smacking the ground, of bodies tumbling down the rocky, obsidian-black slope, echoing the sounds of yelps and snarls._

 _A Trollhunter and a Stalkling, smashing on the ledge, thrown in opposite directions…_

Jim groaned. His body had never felt so achy and battered; creaking open his eyelids, he surveyed his surroundings. Endless crags of black stone loomed over him, reflected with the dim glow of familiar green, but he was on a mostly flat plateau of it, sprawled with an arm awkwardly trapped under his armoured chest. It burned with a sort of numb sensation- he could only hope the damage was minor.

Trusting that his armour had saved him from the worst of the fall, Jim grunted and pushed himself to stand on his hands and knees.

It took a few staggering moments for him to register his physical condition- something he was trying to keep a record of. His hip was hurting, as usual, and his left forearm screeched painfully. Blood, sticky and unpleasant, was trickling steadily down a fresh wound across his neck. He found it a miracle, frankly- there hadn't been any more damage, except for his ankle, which seemed to be strained- insignificant, really, compared to what could have been.

After he managed to regain composure, the young Trollhunter shakily stood, acknowledging the pain as it increased tenfold. On his second thoughts, he tried to ignore the agony altogether. Hard task, that was.

A small voice in his head was angry. He had to finish the fight. He had to _find_ and _kill_ that Stalkling... He couldn't let it get away...

It would be downed and weak... It'd be easy pickings.

The attack had been a form of ambush- and, a little bit of his own fault. He was the one to step on its tail, snaked between two stalagmites rising out the ground. It had been a frenzy of snapping and slashing from there; both were cranky, hurt, confused; and the troll had also probably been hungry, too. The Stalkling had shown little mercy. They had ended up in a one-on-one brawl, a tangle of writhing limbs as they rapidly approached the cliff's edge; that's where it had been cut half-time.

It was time to end it.

-XxX-x-XxX-

Slowly, hearing only his footfalls and their echoes, and the pounding pattern of his heart, he descended another slope and approached his destination- crumbled stalagmites littered the scraped stone beneath his armoured shoes. Like climbing a fragile, frayed rope, progressively his dread creeped up his thoughts.

His eyes scavenged out a glimpse of grey-black, tinged by a dark purple, that stood out among the habitat. He stiffened his posture for possible combat and crouched slightly.

Like a predator stalking his prey, Jim growled under his breath and crept forward, light on one foot, heavy and limping on the other. His blue eyes, deep as the ocean but dead and dull, haunted by the things he'd seen, the things he'd done... They locked upon the fallen beast before him.

The Stalkling didn't look good. It's mane of spikes behind its neck were droopy- although from a closer angle, they almost looked like serrate, smooth-edged feathers. It's red-orange eyes, split by a vertical pupil in each, had lost a fair quantity of their menacing glow. It was laid on its side, wings apparently ripped, and s out on either side- one trapped underneath, much like his arm had been. He hesitated slightly at that. Honestly, it looked quite defeated already...

What little was left of his merciful attitude he had clung to so desperately in the Farmlands snarled ferociously at him, trying to claw and destroy his instincts.

Leave it be, it said.

Jim countered by reminding himself what Stalklings were known for- it would simply hunt him down until one of them died- probably being himself, not it.

Then let it die to another troll, it said.

Jim pondered. Even weakened like this, Stalklings were crafty and lethal. It could still get away from the clutches of death.

Then leave it to die to the elements, and its wounds. Or the White Eclipse- that approaches, does it not? He wouldn't have to lay a single claim to its true cause of death, it said.

Jim's grip on the Sword of Daylight tightened. That was tempting, he'd admit it...

But his fear and confusion was climbing higher and higher, steeper up the ridges of his mind, blocking out every other sense.

"I'm going to kill you, Stalkling," The Trollhunter said, trying to sound firm. A feeble, croaky moan was the only symptom that the Stalkling was still alive and conscious. "I'm going to kill you, Stalkling, and you'll pay for everything you've done..."

The beast was making noises; small, pitiful, and frightened noises.

It was scared.

Jim's hands suddenly seemed clammy and sweaty- he swallowed thickly, meeting one of its wide, amber eyes, which stared at him, its head slightly lifted, its black beak-like snout scratched and scraped from its crash landing...

"And- and, when I return to Trollmarket, as a noble hero, their Trollhunter, I'll- I'll proudly proclaim that I slaughtered a vicious and evil Stalkling!"

It gave a terrible cry of despair. The small scales surrounding its eyes became wet with what he believed was a silvery liquid- he prayed, that by Deya's grace, that they weren't _tears_ \- and with a miserable whine, it's head collapsed on the crushed black stone, and it allowed only the occasional whining moan of noise sound, and laid still except for the uneven rise and fall of its chest.

It just... It gave up.

Surrendered.

Accepted its perilous fate.

Jim sucked in his shuddering breath, lifted his sword high over his head, and prepared to bring it down upon the beast's chest, already shining with red blood-

Blood just like his...

His grip wavered. Tears stung in the corners of Jim's eyes, falling in unison with those of the Stalkling's...

They could _think_ , and _feel_ , and _despair_ , and _cry_ , just like the trolls he kept in his heart, just like _him_...

His grip slackened, and his sword sunk into the ground beside his right leg. Jim crumbled to his knees, sobbing wildly, hiding his face between bloody hands, his nails tainted a sickening crimson.

The luminescent, white-green light of the Darklands' 'moon' shined down upon them both, like it was too, was judging the morals of life and death themselves..

-XxX-x-XxX-

"I'm sorry," Jim choked. He looked at the weak Stalkling.

It's head slowly lifted, its eyes, confused and tragic, now locked onto the distraught boy.

A boy. Not a bloodthirsty, murderous troll-slaying machine.

Perhaps the Stalkling, too, had some sort of grand revelation, because, tentatively, it reached out with one stubbed, cracked talon, caked with dried gore, and it lightly touched Jim's arm.

Sniffing, he tried to summon a stronger voice, but it was trapped in a croaky, broken rasp. He repeated his words. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for trying to kill you..."

The Stalkling blinked; it didn't seem to be able to speak, but it did appear to have a vague understanding of body language beyond clawing and biting. It wrapped the rest of its talons on its fore left leg around his gauntlet, and lightly squeezed, as if to reassure.

The wild troll kept a gentle grip on his arm, watching carefully as Jim sniffled more. Eventually, the Trollhunter reached out, resting his hand on the smooth, cold stone of the creature's shoulder. He stroked it silently, keeping one eye on the troll, and the other on its body, observing it with a type of curiosity.

The troll was much larger than he; perhaps nine feet tall at the head; and unlike most trolls, it had very little human structure at all to it. It had four thin but relatively strong legs, with sharp, long talons, with what seemed like four on each. Its head was just as he remembered; almost bird or dragon like, with that odd snout, and two set eyes and black horns; it's neck was long and almost like a swan's, oddly, and it almost made him laugh at what irony that would be. Behind it's horns was a mane of those feather-like spikes.

Attached onto its back, which was lined with a long trail of razor-sharp spikes, were the two huge, bat-like wings. Underneath, it was coated in a surprisingly soft sort of purple membrane, but with a guilty wince, he saw that one- the left side- was slightly crooked, and multiple, great ugly rips smeared with blood were torn in the wing from the edges and up. The Stalkling must have been badly wounded by the rock spires as it went down...

Speaking of the said troll, Jim noticed how sad it's eyes were, also gazing at the mangled wing. He apologised softly, carefully touching the smooth black of its snout and grazing the surface soothingly. The Stalkling's eyes were still duller, but the glow was there. Suddenly they weren't as mean looking.

Some time later, the two stood up. One paw lifted a little off the ground, clearly pained, and it's wounded wing tucked tightly to its side, the Stalkling threw him a silent question with its expression; _what_ _now_?

"I don't know," Jim replied honestly. He looked around helplessly. "This place... It's awful. I want to go home, but..."

As much as he found this all so sincere, Jim couldn't help but allow himself to be a little wary and suspicious. "Look, I know it's not very convenient, but- don't go, okay? Just... alright... would you like to come with me?"

"It's not exactly an A-classed idea. You'd be going against everything you knew and were taught; against Gunmar; but I promise you, if we get out this hell alive, you can live in Heartstone Trollmarket, as a redeemed troll. Did you ever hear about... about the ex-General around here? Arrrgh...? He... He was a Gumm-Gumm, until... well... he went good... and..."

Jim was grateful that the Stalkling agreed so readily, as he was unsure how he'd be able to continue talking about such a sensitive subject.

In fact, the creature seemed more than happy to stay by his side.

Not once in the future, did he regret it.

-XxX-x-XxX-

Protected under a large wing, Jim couldn't remember when he'd last felt this relatively and oddly safe, or warm- he shuffled closer into the side of his new friend, who was a Stalkling, of all trolls.

Fate sure was a strange thing, Jim knew. And, irony got along quite well with it, too. To think that some months ago, he was being _hunted_ by one of these...

He wasn't alone, not anymore.

Jim closed his eyes, falling asleep beside the Downed Stalkling.

 **-XxX-x-XxX-**


End file.
